Dancing on a Fine Line
by blueXXphoenix
Summary: When the darkness spills into the light, when It's faded away completely, there's always blood. This time is no exception.
1. Chapter001 : Volatile

**Title: **Dancing on a Fine Line

**Chapter Title: **Volatile

**Summary: **When the darkness spills into he light, when It has faded away completely, there's always blood. This time is no exception.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Beyblade or its characters; they belong to their respective owners.

**Warnings: **a bit bloody and a curse word.

Well, this is another Beyblade fic. It isn't a oneshot, but I want to see what people think before I continue it.

++Chapter0.01 : Volatile++

_~~Reality has exiled me. I am no longer bound by its laws.~~_

_--Author Unknown_

"Stay out of my room, Kai!" The door is slammed in my face and I roll my eyes, shuffling my feet down the hallway to my own room.

Meet Michael Parker. High school jock in almost every sport, _almost _an only child, and my… thirty-second adoptive brother. Or wait… is it thirty-third? I lose count. But I do know this is my seventeenth adoption home.

A small, secrete smile paints itself on my lips. I must hold some kind of record, _somewhere_, with how many foster homes I've been in. I know I hold the record back at the orphanage.

Oh, I suppose I should introduce myself. My name's Alexander Kai Hiwatari, but I go by Kai. I'm pale, wiry, and I have naturally crimson eyes. I'm sixteen and… that's pretty much all you need to know about me.

Now, back to this family. There's Michael Parker, who's the same age as me, Shirley Parker, his mom who's always away, and his dad, Jonathan Parker, who is also always away.

Yes, I do say _his _mom and _his _dad for a reason. I don't claim them as my parents. It's not because I have teenage angst problems and I'm clinging to the past, and not because I won't accept the fact that my parents are dead. Rather, it's that I do accept it that my parents are dead and, therefore, don't claim new ones. Odd, I know, and the two sentences seem contradictory but it makes sense.

You see, I've been to seventeen different foster homes in my life, but I've never stayed more than a month in any of them. Not because I run away, but because the family has always kicked me out by then. They never keep me for long. Get it yet? I don't claim new ones because I don't ever know them long enough.

My parents dies when I was three, in some freak car accident. I don't know much, and the people at the orphanage never say much. Apparently they pulled over to check something on the car and another car drove too close and killed them. When I got my hands on my file back at the orphanage, it said that I stayed in the car all night until someone was driving by and saw their bodies.

All night, with my parents' guts strewn across the road. Their blood smeared across the car, across my window, and I was too stupid to understand. Creepy, I know.

I would tell you more, but right about now Michael will be coming in here, screaming about the mess I've made. Oh, I think I hear the lock turning now…

"Kai!!" Michael roars, his blue eyes ablaze with anger. I listen as he stomps down the hallway to my room. "Pick up your damn trash!" In his hands, he holds my 'trash': an _unused _Styrofoam cup and a _clean _paper plate.

"Make me, Princess," I mock, an amused grin settling on my lips before I look back down at the magazine I'm reading. I only left them in there to tick him off; it's fun being able to piss someone off like that.

Michael's face turns bright red. He brings his arm back and throws it forward, hurling the trash at me. Now, he's a pitcher on the baseball team, so he obviously throws harder than most. Yet the cup only bounces off my head and the plate doesn't even reach me.

Nonetheless I shoot my head up at him, my naturally crimson eyes bright with anger. No, rage. Raw rage. I see Michael visibly flinch it almost makes me laugh.

I can feel the rage coiling in me like a snake preparing to attack. Twisting tighter and tighter in my stomach, festering in me like a black cloud. I shift myself into a sitting position, letting the anger grow tenser in me like a string pulled tight.

When the snake springs into attack, so do I.

Thud.

Tears.

Screams.

Adrenaline.

Blood…

I sit back on my haunches, rocking myself back and forth casually. I glance down at my knuckles, noticing the split skin; I'll have to bandage them later. Turning my hand over, I look at my nails, and the blood and skin wedged under them. I begin pulling it out.

Beside me Michael lays, face up and still. His whole face is bloody, most likely torn ragged by my knuckles and when I must have raked my nails across him. Even his eyes are cut up and bleeding. A few scratches reach his neck, the blood pooling out of him and painting the carpet crimson. His eyes are wide, the blue already fading to a dull grey, and his mouth is caught in a permanent scream. Screams only heard by me, though I can't recall them now; they're just a persistent ringing in my ears.

My head is still pounding from the adrenaline rushing through my veins, but I smile at the pain. I worship the feeling, the natural high I get, from letting It take over.

I frown, suddenly realizing that his parents aren't home. I hope they'll be home soon; the blood will permanently stain their carpet red. I don't want to ruin their carpet, but Michael is almost twice my size, and there's no way I can move him on my own. Then I hear the car door slam outside, and I grin again.

Hello. My name's Alexander Kai Hiwatari, but I go by Kai. I'm pale, wiry, and I have naturally crimson eyes. I'm sixteen, and… that's pretty much all you need to know about me.

Oh, except that I'm insane.

++Chapter0.01 : End++

Well? Like? Dislike?

R&R.

--blueXXphoenix--


	2. Chapter002 : Foment

**Title: **Dancing on a Fine Line

**Chapter Title: **Foment

**Summary: **When darkness spills into the light, when It fades away completely, there's always blood. This time will be no exception.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Beyblade or its characters; they belong to their respective owners.

**Warnings: **A curse word or two. Nothing too bad.

Well here's chapter two.

A little note that might be _**IMPORTANT**_ to read: the medical disorder Kai has is a real disorder, but I don't have solid information on it. Therefore, some specifics might be wrong or changed in the story. I don't mean to be rude to anyone who may have the disorder or may know someone with it. Again, my apologies if I do appear rude.

++Chapter0.02 : Foment++

"IED?" the officer, dressed appropriately in his uniform, is incredulous, his eyebrows raised and he's frowning.

The woman beside him, wearing a nurses uniform, nods. "Intermittent-Explosive Disorder. It causes random fits of rage."

I suppose I should catch you up on what happened. It was pretty comical actually, in my opinion, though I guess that sort of makes me a sick person.

Shirley Parker, Michael's mom, walked in two minutes after it was over. I was still sitting by the body, casually still removing the skin from under my nails. The blood was beginning to seep into the carpet and I knew it would stain deep.

She walked into the living room, placed her bag down, and then walked upstairs, just like she did every day. And then, as she reached the foyer upstairs, she stopped. Her hand flew to her mouth as I looked up at her, grinning devilishly. That was when she really freaked out and started to scream.

Half an hour later and this is where we're at. The firefighters, then the ambulance, and then the cops showed up. Each showed varying expressions of either rage or disgust. Then, when the EMS people saw my paperwork, their expressions had softened. The cops had been ready to take me away in chains but I was protected, and then handled as though I was the victim.

When they asked me what had happened, I said simply, "He got me mad, and the he was dead." When they had asked for specifics, I just shrugged; how was I supposed to go into detail about something I had no recollection of?

"_That_'_s _what's keeping me from taking that boy away in cuffs? He's _crazy_?" The officer's eyes narrow slightly before shooting me a dirty glance.

"_Not _crazy. Kai is mentally ill." The nurse is looking at me now too, though her look is a fake one of concern; she's making sure his little comment won't upset me. It doesn't, but it is quite rude and I don't appreciate it.

"These people, these _good people_, just lost their only son. That kid over there," the officer points to me and sneers. "took their son from them. Michael Parker us dead, his killer is sitting there like he doesn't have a care in the world, and he isn't even going to be _blamed _for this?

The doctor shakes her head. "I'm sorry, Sir, but Mr. and Mrs. Parker signed a contract when they adopted Kai; they were well aware of his disorder. We warned them of what Kai can do, and they understood that. No one is to blame here."

I watch from my seat on the back of the ambulance, swinging my legs back and forth and lightly grabbing the blanket draped over my shoulders. A male doctor is checking my pulse and heart rate, watching me closely; making sure I haven't lost control and It isn't back yet. Idiot. He should know that my '_fits of rage_' don't ever happen twice in one day. Sort of an unwritten rule I go by.

The officer's face grows red with anger, just like Michael's did a few hours earlier, but before he can say a word, I hear another booming voice. "That boy _mauled _my son! He's dead now because of that psycho sitting over there! You aren't going to do a thing about that?!" Jonathan Parker stomps over, his eye full of tears. Behind him, his wife, Shirley Parker, is kneeling beside a black bag. Her shoulders are hunched and shaking with sobs.

"Sir, I'm sorry, but we can't do—" The nurse begins, trying to calm him.

"The hell you can't!" Mr. Parker shoves past the nurse, almost pushing her to the ground, then comes straight towards me. I sit calmly on the back of the ambulance, my face indifferent.

"Yes, Jonathan?" I ask lightly, mocking him further. A grin splits my face.

Jonathan's eyes grow wide. "You… YOU SICK FREAK!!" He flies at me and grabs my throat, pushing me back into the ambulance and pinning me down. I begin spluttering for air, grabbing at his hands and trying to pry them away from my neck, but his grip is too strong. Suddenly I wish It would come back; at least I might be able to stop him then. Still, the thought only flickers in and out of my mind as I lose more breath. He's holding me for twenty seconds… thirty… forty…

"Mr. Parker!" There are suddenly dozens of people around us. Even in my almost unconscious state, I can tell. Most are pulling Mr. Parker off of me, while others have strong arms wrapped around my legs and body. Incase I let It loose. I would laugh if I'm not choked; they think they can stop me?

Soon enough I can feel air passing through my windpipe again. I force the air in and out, sitting up calmly though my body trembles slightly. I pull the blanket tighter around my shoulders, feeling a sense of security inside it. There are doctors and nurses everywhere, some holding sedatives and some looking genuinely concerned.

"Kai? Are you all right?" a nurse asks, stepping forward. I nod, lightly touching my neck where I know it will bruise. The nurse smiles. "Good. How about we get you into a car and head back to the orphanage?" Her voice is gentle and soothing, as though she's talking to a child.

I nod again and scoot down from the ambulance, keeping the blanket securely around my shoulders. We pass dangerously close to Mr. Parker and he jerks forward again, but this time others stop him. He begins shouting, spewing some nonsense I ignore. The nurses and doctors gather around, shielding me from him and his words.

We reach a black car and I open the door and slide inside. There's already someone in the car, two people actually: Mr. Stanley Dickenson and Ms. Leah Hark. Mr. Dickenson looks tired and weary, while Ms. Leah only looks disappointed.

Mr. Dickenson runs the Sixth Heights orphanage, as he has done for the last ten years. I've been there for thirteen years, so I should know. The man is elderly and round in the middle. He wears a black bowler over his shiny bald head and carries around a wooden cane. When he's nervous, like he is now, he plays with his white handlebar mustache.

Ms. Leah, on the other hand, is young and skinny. Her blonde hair is pulled tightly into a bun, a few bangs falling over her brown eyes. She's wearing a khaki skirt and a black blouse, looking pristine and neat. Beside her is a clipboard with a thick stack of paper, and a black duffel bag. I stop as my eyes reach the bag.

_My _black duffel bag.

My motions are slow now, assessing the situation carefully. Ms. Leah's smile is assuring, but she also looks a bit apprehensive. She slides the duffel bag over, letting it rest lightly against my leg. I glance at her clipboard.

"Just the papers that say they can't blame you for what happened, Kai. Well, part of it is. The rest is—"

"You're shipping me off to another home," I cut in with an icy voice. I've never had to go directly from one home to another; I've always had a break in the middle. I don't like this new idea at all.

Mr. Dickenson sighs, making him sound much older than he is, and rubs temples. "Kai… you can't stay at the orphanage forever. We've got to find you a good home. This time it's with one of the orphanage families; they've taken in kids from out orphanage before and they've never given them back. This could be a good family for you, Kai."

"You say that about every family, Old Man. And I'm sure no kid they've taken in has had IED, right? Just face it: I can't live with people. I thought we established this a long time ago. Just dump me on the street. Trust me, it'll be much easier."

In truth, I feel guilty for all the problems I cause. Not guilty enough to apologize, but enough so that I want to leave so I won't be a burden to them anymore. If they dump me on the street, I'm no one's problem except my own. People won't worry about me anymore.

"Kai, you know we won't do that. We'll find you a good home; I promise," Ms. Leah says, smiling. I ignore her easily.

"Now, the Tate's are expecting you in half an hour. We've packed up your things, so let's head over there quickly. It's a bit of a drive. Driver, if you don't mind." The chauffer nods and the car slowly pulls away from the curb.

Away from the Parkers' house, away from Michael's death, away from everything.

++Chapter0.02 : End++

Well? Hope you enjoyed. Chapter 3 is in the process.

R&R.

--blueXXphoenix--


	3. Chapter003 : Insipid

**Title: **Dancing on a Fine Line

**Chapter Title:**

**Summary: **When the darkness spills into the light, when It fades away completely, there's always blood. This time will be no exception.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Beyblade or its characters; they belong to their respective owners.

**Warnings: **none.

Wow, it's been a long time since I updated last. Here's chappie 3. Enjoy!

++Chapter0.03 : Insipid++

~~Reality has exiled me; I am no longer bound by its laws…~~  
--Author Unknown

Forty minutes later the car finally pulls to a stop. Dusk has already fallen, the sky painted a collage of pink and orange and blue. I've been sitting in the same position the entire car ride, with my face pressed against the window. My left leg is completely numb.

Shaking my leg awake, I slowly step out of the door, then turn to grab my duffel. Stretching my neck and popping my back, I wait quietly for Ms. Leah and Mr. Dickenson to exit the car before I turn and face the house.

The walls are white and spotless, the windows polished and shutters painted hunter green. The house has a nice, wrap-around front porch that is closed in by a waist high, white fence. There's an iron rocking chair and bench, and a small iron table. The door is green, identical to the window shutters, with a golden knocker in the middle, beneath a peephole. There are two cars in the driveway: a black Escalade and white, older Mercedes.

If I had to use one word to describe the house, it'd be conformity.

The house is near identical to every other house on the street, save for the difference of cars and slight changes in gardening. Getting moved to another family immediately after leaving one is annoying enough; going to live with the Brady Bunch is an entirely different story.

I stop just short of the walkway to the front door. I cock one eyebrow up at the house and then turn back to Ms. Leah and Mr. Dickenson, letting annoyance and disapproval seep into my expression. Ms. Leah isn't looking at me, and Mr. Dickenson chuckles at my expression but doesn't say anything. Ms. Leah jots something down onto her clipboard before looking back up at me, smiling. I don't return the gesture.

"Well, come on, Kai. Let's go meet them," she says encouragingly; she's already used to the stoic attitude I have before _every _new home. I roll my eyes and follow her up the walkway.

When we reach the front step, Ms. Leah points to the door, gesturing for me to knock, but I stubbornly ignore her and firmly stand my ground. When she doesn't get the point, I fold my arms over my chest. Finally she sighs in exasperation and grabs the door knocker, hitting the door with it twice.

We wait for about ten seconds before I hear someone unlock the door. Then the handle turns and the door is pulled wide open. The woman standing there is tall, skinny, and blonde. Her hair is parted neatly down the middle and is kept out of her face a purple headband. She's wearing khaki pants and a black shirt, and then I realize she could pass off as Ms. Leah's twin if not for her blue eyes.

She smiles warmly. "You must be Kai. My name is Judy Tate," the woman says, holding out her hand to me. I stare at her plainly, the disapproval warping to disdain. Judy, however, doesn't miss a beat. "Well, come on in," she continues, still all smiles. "You can meet the other boys."

I follow her in slowly, glancing around the house and mentally mapping it out. Calculating how many steps to the front door, the back, the windows, where everything is, each—

"He's here!!" I jolt only slightly as my eyes fly to the stairs. I briefly tighten my grip on my duffel, but when I sense Ms. Leah's hand reaching towards mine to calm me, I swiftly relax my hold and step away.

The voice was a boy's, sounding about my age. Then I hear a mad thundering of steps as three other people come rushing down the steps, moving as one person an only separating when they stop in a breathless sigh before me.

They're the most mismatched group of boys I've most certainly ever come across. The first, farthest left, has long black hair reaching his ankles, secured in a white and gold wrap, and has golden eyes. He looks only just younger than me, and with his appearances, could pass off as a girl. A _manly _girl, yes, but a girl all the same.

In the middle is another boy, with blonde hair and blue eyes matching Mrs. Tate's own. The smile on his freckled face is wide, and I almost wince; I can already tell he's going to be too hyper for my liking.

The third has vivid orange hair and emerald green eyes. He's wearing all white, making him seem much brighter than the other two, but he looks much more reserved.

"Hi there! I'm Max!" The boy in the middle steps forward, holding up his hand in what I assume means he wants a high five. I simply raise one eyebrow in response, and Max shrugs and laughs nervously.

"Max, let the boy breath," someone else says, then, "I'm Rei." The girly one with the golden eyes. He must have taken notice of my passive response to Max, because he wisely doesn't try any physical motion of greeting, aside from his smile. I nod once to him.

"And my name's Brooklyn," the third replies in a soft voice, smiling but keeping his eyes averted to the floor. Yes, he's definitely the shy one.

"Kai," I say stiffly, unsure of what else I'm supposed to add on. Usually the families I get thrown into are quiet and almost nervous; afraid to upset me. They've never been so friendly, so easily.

Silence ensues and they glance at each other awkwardly, Max scratching his head and giving another nervous chuckle. No doubt in response to my quiet self.

"Well hello there," a gruff voice calls suddenly, breaking the tension. A man in an orange shirt, khaki pants, and a grime-smeared apron steps out, cleaning his hands with an already too-dirty rag. He smiles and I realize with faint clarity that this must be their father, and Judy's husband.

"I'm William Tate." He throws the rag over his shoulder and holds out his hand but I don't notice it much; my eyes are focused on the dirt covering his apron. Some spots are darker than others, and some are discolored, so I can't safely call them 'dirt.' I subconsciously pull back in disturbance, letting my face crease over in disgust. Can someone really be comfortable walking around with that much dirt on himself?

William looks down at his apron too, and then lets out a booming laugh; it jolts me from my thoughts. When he looks up again, he looks almost surprised. "Sorry 'bout that. Didn't have enough time to change." He smiles again.

I nod.

"Well, Kai, I don't mean to rush you but we must be off," Ms. Leah says suddenly. She and Mr. Dickenson had been standing on the sidelines, watching the interactions with small smiles. They both look approving,

I turn quickly, my eyes pleading for them not to leave me here, but Ms. Leah ignores the look easily. "We'll be back in a week to see how you've adapted, Kai. Bye until then." The two leave quickly, not giving me any time to vocally object as they see themselves to the door. I try not to groan as the wooden door shuts after them.

"Rei, how about you show Kai to his room?" Judy says, still chipper. Rei nods and smiles.

"Come on, Kai." Rei turns and begins climbing the stairs one by one, and reluctantly, I follow. Max and Brooklyn follow behind me, keeping their distance and talking in hushed whispers.

I follow Rei up the steps and down a hallway, idly glancing at the pictures on the walls. Family portraits, school pictures, Christmas pictures. Even a few awards and diplomas; everything you'd expect in a normal, happy family.

One I'm now stuck with.

Rei stops at the last door on the right. "Here you go." He pushes open the door and then steps back, allowing me to step inside.

It isn't an overly grand room, but I've stayed in far worse. There's a twin-sized bed pushed against the wall, and a window above it. There's also a wooden desk and chair, a bedside table, and a small TV. The closet is to my immediate right, empty and waiting for what few clothes I have.

"Feel free to decorate it however you please. My room is next door, Brooklyn's is across from yours, and Max is furthest down. The restroom is right here," Rei points to a door to the left, "and Judy and William's room is downstairs. Dinner'll be ready soon, so… yea." Rei leaves the sentence hanging awkwardly, so I nod and so does he. Then Rei turns and walks down the hallway, to his room or one of the others.

With a sigh I ungracefully drop my bag onto the floor. It makes a dull _thump_, and all of my belongings shift slightly to one side. Absentmindedly closing the door behind me, I walk over to the bed and sit silently onto it, letting my mind wander.

I think back to the incident with Michael. No doubt it's going to make things difficult on the orphanage. I don't know why they won't just dump me; then they wouldn't have to keep giving me family replacements. Besides—

"Boys!!"

I jolt slightly, pulled from my thoughts, and I'm thankful that no one is there to witness it. "Dinner!" the same voice adds after a second of silence. I recognized the voice to be Judy's.

There is a sudden thundering of footsteps, similar to the ones I heard earlier, as multiple people begin running down the hallway. I can hear Max laughing loudly, and Brooklyn saying something in quiet protest. I must admit, I am slightly shocked; can three boys really make so much noise? Then, I hear, "Rei, go and get Kai, please," from downstairs and I quickly compose myself.

Light, softer footsteps make their way up the stairs quickly and then there is an almost inaudible knock at my door. I sigh again and push myself up from the bed and walk to the door. I pull it open.

"Dinner's ready," Rei says bluntly, his smile and eyes still sincere. I nod once, sharply, and then begin to close the door, having no intention of joining them. However, for some reason, the door doesn't shut. When I look, Rei's hand is holding it open.

"We eat dinner together. Come downstairs." Rei's voice is almost authoritative over me. I raise my eyebrows, a mock-surprised look coming over my face. Authority over _me_?

"Excuse me?" I question, my voice cold and challenging.

"We all eat dinner together. Come downstairs," Rei repeats. I don't say anything, just give him a bland look and try to push my door closed again. Rei doesn't remove his hand.

"Leave me alone," I order, my voice laced with malice.

"No. Come downstairs," Rei replies with equal force.

I smirk. "Might want to leave now. Unless your parents didn't tell you what, _exactly_, I'm capable of." I know I'm bluffing; It won't come back today. But that doesn't matter, because Rei doesn't know.

"I know full well that you have IED. Doesn't matter. That isn't an excuse, Kai. So come and eat dinner with us."

Shock passes briefly over my face before I can reign it in. No one has _ever_ stood up to me when I bring up my disorder. It's practically the only reason I ever get my way. I feel anger swell in me, but not It. No, this is a normal teenage anger. Yet for me, it's still uncommon.

Then I smirk. Unyielding and supercilious as I may be, and I know I'm overly-cocky, I am not one to deny a win. Rei has one upped me, so, with an arrogant smirk, I open my door wider and step out, past Rei.

"Sure, Sunshine. I'll go eat dinner."

++ End Chapter0.03 ++

Well? I hope you liked it. Next chapter up soon.

R&R!

--blueXXphoenix--


	4. Chapter004 : Clandestine

**Title: **Dancing on a Fine Line

**Chapter Title: **Clandestine

**Summary: **When the darkness spills into the light, when It fades away completely, there's always blood. This time will be no exception.

**Disclaimer: **I own naught; simply the plot.

**Warnings: **Maybe some confusion, which I will address briefly at the end of the chapter.

I know it's a quick update from last time, but today is the last day of spring break for me, so I wanted to get one more chapter in before the break ended. Enjoy!

++Chapter0.04 : Clandestine++

~~Reality has exiled me; I am no longer bound by its laws…~~  
--Author Unknown

The dinner table is practically silent, aside from the random slurping and munching noises from everyone else. I've barely eaten anything; a bite of potatoes and a single carrot. I don't feel much like eating today.

"Kai, Dear, is everything all right?" Judy asks, concern creasing her features as she glances at me and then at my plate. "You've barely touched your food."

I blatantly ignore her, and thankfully, she doesn't push the subject. However Max, seeing a chance for open conversation, lunges into it. "So, Kai, how'd you wind up at the orphanage?"

I look up from my plate to stare at him, trying to decide what emotion to portray. Anger is my first instinct, like always. But maybe hurt? Or defensive? Or sad? I can't decide, and it's difficult to show much emotion for me, so I settle for a simply blank look. He chuckles nervously and looks back down, suddenly becoming very interested in the vegetables on his plate.

This all happens in a matter of a few seconds, and I look down at my plate, casually. Slowly. As though nothing of significance has passed. But my mind is already on full speed, spinning Max's words through my head.

"_So_,_ Kai_, _how_'_d you wind up at the orphanage_?"

A simple question, yet so many possible answers. So many _completely different _reasons. Regular things, like not enough money. Room. Food. Bigger things like… I shake my head, just barely, and I don't notice if anyone catches the action. I can't think about that here. Not now…

_Come on_,_ Hiwatari_. _Pull yourself together_.

"…sure you're ok? You look a bit pale." A voice cuts into my head. A pause. "Kai?"

Suddenly all my senses are on full alert. Judy and William are looking at me, and Rei keeps glancing up. Max is still observing his food, and Brooklyn is idly looking out the window, apparently oblivious to all; but even from him I can feel a strained vibe.

Judy reaches her hand across the table to place it on my own, her intentions clear: she wants to console. I feel the urge wrinkle my nose in disgust I hold it. Instead, I flinch— regretting it instantly, because disgust would have been a thousand times better than fear— and pull my hand off of the table quickly.

Judy's eyes flash the briefest image of hurt, and I focus on that. It's the only thing that seems natural to me: that look of pain from my actions, and hidden just beneath it, scarcely touching the surface…

It isn't there. I blink and pull my head back slightly. Where is it? Why isn't it…? I begin to panic, searching for the ever-present look in their eyes. In _all _their eyes. Why isn't it there? Why isn't Judy wearing the same expression as everyone else…?! Why isn't she _afraid_?!

All I can see is pain, but even that is different. There's a hint of sorrow, of pity. But no fear, and now I realize, no hurt because of my actions. Hurt because of me. Because I'm me, and for a split second, that almost feels better than the hatred from everyone else. It's been years since someone's looked at me with absolutely no fear.

Immediately I can feel myself relaxing, and I tear my eyes from Judy. I look away, fighting the swell of emotions inside me. The fear, the anger, the joy. Most importantly, the want. The need to walk over to Judy, let her wrap her arms around me, and hold me tightly. To cry.

"I'm going to my room," I blurt out and stand before anyone can object. From my peripheral vision, I can see Rei begin to move and William placing a slightly restraining hand on Rei's wrist.

_That_'_s fine. Let Rei come after me_, I think to myself, itching for a fight. A challenge. Anything to get my mind off of this confusion, this insanity. This is ridiculous; I've never been so close to losing control of my emotions. I've never lost it. What is with this family?

I'm up the stairs and through the bedroom door in seconds, closing it lightly behind me instead of slamming it like I want to. I can't let them get the slightest feeling I'm not in control; as soon as they sense it, they'll think I'm having another fit.

I lean against the wall and slide down, pulling my legs to my chest and wrapping my arms around my knees. I lean my head forward, resting it on my knees, and close my eyes. This has only ever happened to me, this bad, once before. So I start to do exactly what I did last time: I will myself away.

Not just out of this room, to an imaginary place where everything's ok. No, I will myself to the darkest alley I've ever seen. Where the light flickers daily, and then one day, decides to go out. Where the only people that live in the apartments that make up the alley are the drug addicts and the alcoholics; the lowlifes of the city. I've no idea where this alley is, but its been a part of me all my life.

I can feel myself walking down the cold, dirty stone path. I'm shoeless, and the water from the ruptured pipe is soaking the bottom of my jeans. Something crawls by the wall, and at that exact moment, the light finally gives. I know exactly what's going to happen next. It's the same thing I've dreamt about for the past fourteen years of my life.

Except this isn't a dream. This time, I decide when to stop.

I keep moving down that alley confidently. I already know what I'm going to find, but a part of me still shakes. Still apprehensive, after all these years. I stop moving forward and hold my breath, waiting for it. It happens not two seconds later.

The scream.

It's a woman's voice, and she sounds completely out of her mind. She's shouting and crying, but I can't understand what she's saying. There's a loud bang, and the woman screams louder, but in pain now. I can hear a man's voice shouting back, angry.

A door up ahead, on the right, is thrown open. A man stomps out, dragging a woman by the hair and a child by the arm. The woman is screaming, clawing at his hand, trying to make him let go. She fights valiantly, despite the gaping wound in her stomach. Fighting for the boy.

The man shouts in anguish at a particularly sharp claw and he throws the woman to the wall. Her head hits the stones solidly, and she cries out. The boy is still in his grasp, plain faced an innocent. Too young to understand. Too young to run away.

"Let him go!" the woman shouts in anger, lunging forward again. The man kicks her down and she cries out, holding her wound. The man turns, dragging the little boy with him. I can see his face clearly now.

He's got bright crimson eyes. Just like me.

This is usually where the dream stops, but this time, I will myself to remember, to keep going. The man is walking right towards me, his own crimson eyes ablaze. But he's fighting the young boy all the way. The child finally realizes that something's utterly wrong.

Then suddenly, the man halts. His eyes go wide and he gasps, releasing the boy's arm and falling. When he lands, I can see the blood spreading across his shirt, and a jagged bear bottle is sticking up through his back.

The woman stands behind him, breathing heavily. Her hands are stained with his blood. She falls to the ground, and the child runs to her immediately. "Mama!" he cries out, letting her wrap her bloody arms around him.

"Oh, my dear Kai…"

My eyes open suddenly when I hear a quiet knock at my door. I glance at the clock. I've been in this room for over an hour. It's probably Judy or Max, coming to apologize and offer me dessert.

I stand slowly, letting my cramped legs stretch out, and then walk towards the door. When I pull the handle back, though, I'm only slightly surprised to find Rei standing on the other side. His smile is small, but his expression is earnest.

"Hey," Rei says quietly. I nod in response, and the boy sighs. "Look, Kai… I'm sorry about what Max said. Honest, he didn't mean it. We're all really open and comfortable in this house, and so Max knows everything about the rest of us. You're awfully quiet, and… it's something we need time to get used to."

I hold him with a blank, steady gaze. Rei sighs again.

"I understand," I hear myself say suddenly, and I'm as surprised as Rei is.

"You do?"

I sigh, mentally berating myself for not censoring my thoughts. "Uh… yea, I guess. I mean…" I let the sentence trail off, unsure where I was going with it in the first place.

Rei's smile returns, this time much wider. "Thanks, Kai. And Max is sorry, too. We just weren't sure if you really wanted to talk to him."

I nod again, moving to close the door.

"Well, night, Kai," Rei says quietly.

I halt just slightly, but Rei's already got his back turned. I don't return the words. It's the same as every family: they'll tell me that the first night, and then I'll never hear it again. It's happened to me, now, eighteen times.

So why am I almost sad that no one in _this _particular house won't say that to me again?

I sigh and shake my head as the door falls shut. What is it with this family?

++Chapter0.04 : End++

Now I know the story in here is different from what I said in the first chapter, but I'll explain that in a later chappie. Hope you all enjoyed. Chapter 5 in the process.

R&R.

--blueXXphoenix--


	5. Chapter005 : Paroxysm

**Title: **Dancing on a Fine Line

**Chapter Title: **Paroxysm

**Summary: **When the darkness spills into the light, when It fades away completely, there's always blood. This time will be no exception.

**Disclaimer: **I own naught; simply the plot

**Warnings: **some cursing in this one

So sorry, I know it's late. Enjoy.

++Chapter0.05 : Paroxysm++

~~Reality has exiled me; I am no longer bound by its laws…~~  
-Author Unknown

"Boys!"

My eyes fly open and I sit up quickly, glancing around the room. The sun hasn't even filtered through my window yet. I glance at my clock; six in the morning. Why the hell are we up so early?

Someone knocks on my door but before I can say anything, Judy is standing in my doorway, smiling, her hand resting on the knob. "Come on, Kai. School day." I keep staring at her, trying to process what she's just said. School day?

She smiles, and then laughs, confusing me all the more. "I forgot. You'll be attending a private school now; we don't have a home teacher like your previous family did."

I keep my stare blank, but inside, I'm slumping dejectedly. New school means new people. New people means no friends. No friends means long days. I don't voice any of this to Judy; instead I nod and pull the covers back, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed.

Rei's head suddenly pops up in my doorway. "Here; you can borrow my uniforms, till you get your own," he says, holding out a black uniform on a hanger. I stand and walk up to him, taking the clothes from his light grasp. He nods and then turns, disappearing to his own room. Judy is still standing in the doorway, still smiling.

"Breakfast will be ready in half an hour, and we'll take you to school at seven," Judy adds, before turning and closing the door behind her. I'm left in the silent confines of my room.

I sigh quietly and throw the uniform onto my bed, wrinkling it; I don't care much. Public schools are bad enough, but I've never been to a private school before. But from what I've heard, they're all snobby and annoying.

With another sigh I slowly begin to dress for school. It takes me less than twenty minutes to put the uniform on, and then adjust it more to my liking. The shirt remains un-tucked, the jacket unbuttoned, and the tie not even on. With a short glance in the mirror, I nod my head in approval and then leave the room and go downstairs.

The scent of eggs and sausage wafts in from the kitchen, and I follow the scent and still will myself to not be hungry. I really don't want to give anyone a chance to ask questions again; the event from last night is still fresh on my mind. And when I walk into the kitchen, it's apparently still on _everyone_'_s _mind.

Max and Brooklyn sit at the table, heads down in a way that can only be interpreted as self-conscious. William stands at the stove, blatantly looking away from me. Rei glances up briefly and his eyes widen partially, then he looks down quickly. Judy is the only one who meets my gaze for more than a second; she gives me a reassuring smile.

"Well, it's good to see you've woken up easily, Kai," Judy says, and I fix her with a blank stare. "Maybe you can rub off on the boys; we can hardly ever get them out of bed." She laughs sweetly, almost to herself, and then glances at Rei warningly; he nods.

"Well, this'll be the morning routine from now on. Everyone has to be up…" Judy's voice fades into the background as she continues rambling on. Rei looks over to Max and gives an apologetic smile before his eyes travel to mine. Because I'm already looking at him, his eyes widen again in alarm. I can feel the awkward tension, but it doesn't faze me. Rei glances back at Max, and Brooklyn looks up for the first time, too. They're both looking at Max expectantly, but the blonde boy refuses to look up. Then it hits me.

They must have been talking about me. They're trying to make Max apologize for himself.

With I snarl I turn and leave the kitchen, walking into the living room. Judy and William both look slightly alarmed and begin to follow me out, but with one glance back, they both stop.

There are four backpacks lined up by the door. I grab the thinnest one, a black one with 'KH' threaded in silver into the top pocket. I swing it widely over my shoulder and something collides heavily with my back, stabbing into my spine; probably a textbook. I hold back a yelp, instead hissing in pain. Judy and William hurry out, concern weaved into their expressions; they heard me.

"Kai, are you—" Judy begins.

"Where's the school?" I bite out.

"That doesn't matter. We'll take—"

"I said: where the hell is the school?" I snip, my tone threatening.

"Kai, don't take that tone with us. And there won't be any cursing in this house. Now put the bag down, wait for a minute, and we'll take you to school." William's tone is stiff, his face solemn. _Of course_, I think, seething. _I can_'_t possibly take that tone with his dear _wife.

The memory from last night— the man and the dead woman— floods over me again. For a moment, William's face wavers and he's suddenly the man from the alley. I can picture the dead woman, my mom, laying beside him, oozing blood. A very foreign, very different feeling suddenly settles in me.

Fear.

I don't know if it's the memory, with William's face in it, or the unfamiliar feeling of being afraid. I'm not really sure what causes the sick, heavy feeling that unfolds within me, but suddenly, I feel like I'm going to explode.

And so I do.

"Oh, so now that you're in the picture, you think you can tell me what to do? You think that suddenly I have to listen to you?" I throw my bag and it collides heavily with something, something glass. I'm too far-gone to register the sound of something breaking. "Well let me tell you something: I DON'T HAVE TO DO A DAMN THING YOU SAY! Don't ever assume that you can tell me what to do, understand?"

I'm right in William's face now, screaming at him. He's taken a protective step in front of Judy, slightly pushing her back with one arm encircled on her waist. Rei, Brooklyn, and Max are all clustered in the doorway, with Rei standing before the other two. Max and Brooklyn look afraid, Rei concerned, and William angry. Judy, as always, looks sympathetic. All of their reactions only serve to enrage me more.

"Kai, now why don't you just—"

"Calm down?" I shout over William, finishing his sentence. "You want me to calm down? Oh, isn't that rich! You only say that because of what's wrong with me! Because I'm a FREAK!" I spit out the last word, and Judy physically flinches, but her concern only seems to grow.

And then, suddenly, I know how to get the reaction I want. I don't really know what that reaction is, but I can tell if I do this, then I'll be satisfied. I know they'll do exactly what I want, and if I'm lucky, I'll get kicked out of this forsaken home. This might be just what I need to do to push them over the edge.

With quick, practiced movements, I sidestep William and lunge…

…directly for Max.

What happens next is completely unexpected, even for me. I'm halfway across the living room, and I just have time enough to register Max and Brooklyn's frightened expressions and Rei's furious glare, when suddenly my feet aren't on the ground anymore. Someone grabs the back of my collar— I know it's William because Judy just doesn't have this kind of strength— and lifts me up off the ground. Then, with ease, I am jerked backwards and sent flying into the front door.

I crash into it, my back and head slamming into the thick wooden door. I post out my arm to stop myself, and immediately I hear something snap. I pray it was the door and not me, but I can feel a sharp pain somewhere on my body, though I'm too disoriented to pinpoint it. I can hear people shouting, someone close to screaming, but all of it's incoherent. My vision is shaking and fuzzy; probably from my quick meeting with the door.

My sight clears before my hearing does, and the moment I can, I stand up. The raucous quiets down immediately and I can feel the tingle in the back of my neck that tells me that someone is looking at me. Without thinking, though, and without fully understanding it, I spin on my heel and grab the front door handle.

Judy has time to let out a quick "Kai!" within a gasp before I've yanked the door open and I'm down the steps and sprinting down the street. I don't pause to look back.

* * *

I lost any train of thought back on the doorstep. Now I'm just moving blindly, allowing my feet to take me wherever they will. My body doesn't feel tired, and my mind doesn't feel connected. It feels like I'm watching myself run, instead of actually being there. My feet don't stop moving for quite some time.

When they do, I pause and glance around. I'm at the edge of some sort of park, lined with trees and underbrush. There is a swing set here, and a running track, and a basketball court, all of which are deserted. Two moms sit at a single bench, chatting away and keeping a careful eye on their children playing in the sandbox. They can't even hear me approach. Good. I don't feel like dealing with people right now.

I let my arms fall heavily beside me, and suddenly a sharp jab of pain makes its way up my right arm. I wince and bring my arm up, cradling it to my chest. The moment I lay eyes on my wrist, I know it's what's hurting: my wrist is swollen right around the joint, the skin an ugly purplish color. I can already tell it's fractured; this must have been what snapped when I was thrown towards the door.

Then I realize something even more peculiar: if I ran long enough for the swelling to rise and the skin to change color, I must have been running for a really long time. I glance behind me and recognize that feeling of being lost: I have no idea where I am; I don't even know if I can get back to the Tate's house from here.

A small amount of regret fills me before I notice three very different things: one, regret is a feeling I've _never _felt before, so it's stupid to feel it now. Two, the sun is nearing the middle of the sky, so I've been gone for hours. And three, which is probably the best of all: I can go back to the orphanage.

++Chapter 0.05 : End++

Hmm? Again, I apologize for the tardiness.

R&R.

-blueXXphoenix-


	6. Chapter006 : Perplexed

**Title: **Dancing on a Fine Line

**Chapter Title: **Perplexed

**Summary: **When the darkness spills into the light, when It fades away completely, there's always blood. This time will be no exception,

**Disclaimer: **I own naught; simply the plot.

**Warning(s): **some cursing.

Not sure how I feel about this chapter; it kind of changes things up a bit. Please, tell me what you think. Enjoy.

++Chapter 0.06 : Perplexed++

The white walls are plain, instilling no inspiration at all. The window is locked shut, constricting the airflow to the small white fan that silently circulates the cold air. After I jumped through the window once when I was nine, Mr. D put in a lock so I couldn't try and escape. Hell, I probably would keep trying if he didn't always try and stop me. My right arm is laying out beside me, secured in a black cast (courtesy of Ms. Leah) that wraps around most of my hand and covers up to just below the crease of my elbow. It, more than the room, is constricting.

As I lay in the bed, staring up at the plain white ceiling, about a million thoughts are going through my head. Like: why are ceilings always painted white? Or: why do people _drive _on _park_ways? And even: who made the first ever board game, and what were they thinking to do with cardboard and some dice? Asinine, irrelevant questions flit in and out of my head, buzzing like aggravating little bees that refuse to be ignored. All of them, though, serve their purpose: keeping me distracted from my real question.

Why did I not go back?

* * *

I had stayed in the park for at least another hour, probably more. Yea, it was more; I didn't even move until the sky was dimming. The stars weren't out yet, but they would have been soon. I crossed the park, walking directly through the middle of it and sitting on the farthest bench I could find. It was getting chillier, too; a light wind brushed against my cheek and nipped at my neck, and with only Rei's thin school jacket to have covered me, I could feel the temperature change immediately. At least on this side of the park, there was a slight sheltering from the line of trees.

Everyone was gone. Home, probably. I wouldn't be going anywhere for a little while longer. At least not until dark. That way, wherever I winded up, no one would be rude enough to leave a child out on the streets at night.

While I sat, I thought. Not positive, not negative. Just thought. About William, and his shouting. You know, he kind of sounded like Michael's dad. Remember him? I did. I mean, I did choke his son to death a bit of time ago. He was pretty pissed about it, too.

And then I thought of Brooklyn and Max. Even though one was shy and the other insanely hyper for his own good, they were kind of the same. With their reactions to me, at least. Both were quiet around me, but ultimately, both were scared. Afraid of big, bad ol' me. How ridiculous.

Rei walked into my thoughts then, with his quiet nature. Yet protective. Probably the perfect older brother for anyone. The kind that would help you with your homework everyday, practice with your for baseball, and still find a way to help cook dinner. The way he was quick to protect Max and Brooklyn, his impulsive behavior and disregard for personal safety, reminded me of Michael, which made me wrinkle my nose in disgust. I silently hoped I wouldn't end up choking Rei to death, too.

Finally, Judy. Stupid, caring, kind, unafraid, sentimental Judy. That stupid, walking bag of sympathy that only ever wanted to do good. You know how annoying that is? It's like the kid in class that reminds the teacher about quizzes, when it's obvious that no one else in the class studied. Judy was the Teacher's Pet, and it was _way _too annoying for me to put up with. Surprisingly, she would probably be the one I missed the most.

And not seriously miss, because, you know, that would have meant actually caring about her. And her family. Which I _didn_'_t_. But, I had to admit that it was kind of nice to be part of their family. They were scared, but they still talked to me like I was a person; I was a part of things, and it made for something as close to nice as I could get. Too bad I was leaving. And only after one day, too.

With a quiet sigh I had pushed off of my knee with my good hand. My wrist had gone numb, and the skin around it was purplish-blue. I glanced around the area, checking out street signs, looking for buildings I recognized. Apparently my run had taken me farther than I had expected; looking from this side of the park, I was only about a block from the orphanage. I hadn't noticed it in my haze of anger earlier.

I hopped off the curb and started walking down the street, loping towards a building I recognized. The only lights were the sparsely placed street lamps and the small sliver of moon in the pitch dark sky. There were absolutely no people out, not even any animals around. I didn't mind; the silence was peaceful, and it gave me more time to think.

But by the time I reached the orphanage, I was tired and out of any thoughts at all. I stood on the doorstep, shivering, and banging with the doorknocker loudly on the thick oaken door. I didn't stop until someone finally answered. As soon as the door was open, I did not pause to ask to be let it. I just stormed through, shoving whoever was on the other side of the door aside, a little more roughly than I intended too. Whoever it was recognized me, because they uttered a gasp of my name; then again, _everyone _in this orphanage knew me. I ignored the call, though, and kept walking.

I walked straight to Dickenson's office; it was a path I knew far too well for my own good. I also knew that even though it was late, Dickenson would still be there, sorting through files. Probably talking to Ms. Leah about me.

When I reached his door I didn't even bother to knock; I plowed right in and, sure enough, Ms. Leah was sitting across from his desk and was just mentioning my name. I smirked arrogantly, despite the brief, white hot pain I felt when I accidentally knocked my wrist against the door frame. Both Dickenson and Ms. Leah turned their heads sharply towards me and gasped.

I had let out a chuckle and, keeping the smirk on my face, said in a quiet voice, "Speak of the Devil, right?"

"K… Kai! What are you doing here?" Ms. Leah asked, ignoring my comment. Then her eyes traveled over my body, like they always did when I returned; she was looking for cuts, signs that I had had a fit. Eventually, her eyes landed on my wrist, and they widened considerably. "Kai! What on earth happened to your wrist?"

I glanced down at it and shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. The swelling was so high, my wrist looked ready to burst, and the numbness was starting to concern me, but no way in hell was I going to let them know that. "William threw me," I replied, my voice level.

"… Threw you?" Dickenson asked, confusion creasing his bald head and disbelief evident in his vocie. He had known the Tate family for years, since Max was born and even before that. He had given them their first adoptive child. William was the furthest thing from a violent man, and Judy would hardly allow _anyone _it be injured purposefully under her roof

I nodded. "Yea. Threw me. At the door. I tried to catch myself and ended up breaking my wrist." I weakly raised up my arm, displaying the fracture; I was playing the weakling card, but not to full effect.

"But why…?"

"I made a jump around him. Probably thought I was going to attack someone else. I don't know." I shrugged again. I couldn't going to tell him that I _was _going to attack; they would send me back to the Tate's in seconds to apologize. So what if I lied a bit? I was 16, and I'd already killed someone; I was going to hell anyway.

Ms. Leah and Dickenson shared a look, a knowing one, that said that they both knew I was lying. Still, I knew that they wouldn't confront me on it now. They would get my wrist fixed, then set me up in my old room— which was never given to someone else because I _always _returned— and then they would give me time to think.

And think.

And think some more.

And when they thought I had thought enough, they would let me out of my room and sit me down, making me talk to both of them. Tell them the truth. Ask to be forgiven and for a second chance. Tell them I would try harder to be good.

Which I wouldn't do this time, because I wasn't going back.

* * *

That about brings you up to speed. After half-dragging me to the doctor and setting my wrist in a cast, I was put in my room. I've been in this bedroom for nearly two hours, and no one has come to get me yet. I don't mind; I'm not done thinking. My head is throbbing with all the thoughts that continually zoom through my head, but they don't go away. Why? Because I still don't want to focus. But finally, I can't stand it anymore.

I make my mind pinpoint the one simple question of why I didn't go back. I could answer with hundreds of pointless reasons, but they wouldn't really answer my question. They would only work to confuse me more, and that seems kind of pointless at this stage.

Yet somewhere, deep in my inner mind, (or whatever you want to call it,) I've already sorted through everything. There is no confusion, and no self-doubt. I know why I didn't go back, why I never will, and why I keep lying to myself. It's a stupid reason, something that I never, in a million years, would have thought I would admit. But it's true,

I'm afraid.

Like I said earlier, fear isn't something I'm used to, and that's an understatement. I've never _actually _been afraid before. At least, not as far back as I can remember. Anyone who's ever stood up to me got a bloody nose so fast, fear didn't have time to register. I've seen fear flicker in people's eyes so much, and I've always wondered what it felt like. But now, experiencing it, I hate it. Loathe it.

And just like that, It is back. I can feel It wrapping its dark, possessive hands around me. They squeeze so tight, I feel my throat close up in a gasp. What is this? No one's pissed me off; why is It so angry? I can feel those groping hands feel for me, my mind, my thoughts. Then, once they grab a hold of them, my thoughts are squashed like a bug. Zip. Nada. Nothing there anymore. I feel my mind go blank and all the air rushes out of me. Then, something dark and sinister happens; too dark for me to really comprehend:

It talks.

**/Fear…/ **A dark, demonic voicecackles wickedly, and the tone is mocking.

I know it's my own voice, distorted to my own ears. I know because It is my own creation, or so they say; a mechanism made to protect me. But I can feel It resonate through my body, shaking me to the core, and all logic flies out the window.** /Come on… just one go… let me out…!/**

Panic sets in, almost like dropping a lead weight into my stomach. This has never happened before. So yea, I might not have been in control all the time, and maybe once or twice I could have prevented It from taking over. But this, this whole idea of doing whatever It wants, does not please me. In fact, it's damn right frightening.

**/Let someone find me… find you… let me out… let me out… out… out… out…/**

It starts chanting over and over again, the mantra embedding itself into my skull until it's my own voice I hear, not the wicked one. It keeps chanting until it's my own mind that's screaming at me, fighting me. I jump up from my bed, intent on running to get Ms. Leah or Mr. Dickenson, but a wave of pain floods over me.

I grab my head and my legs give out under me, my knees crashing to the floor. I hit the carpet so hard, I can feel skin splitting on one of my knees. The weight of It's voice, It's _will_, is almost crushing. Sure, I've mangled people before. It helped me stand up for myself, be brave when I couldn't. Hell, you know I killed a guy. But It has never _turned on me_.

I feel my anger coil inside tighter and tighter, squeezing so tight I feel the pain in the pit of my stomach. I want to moan, to scream, but It has taken control of all my functions. Fighting it… trying to keep it off… it's hard. Too hard. I can feel my body and mind breaking, tearing to shreds. It has me, wrapped in its own hands, holding me tightly. Waiting. Waiting for me to break. I can't hold it back.

Like a feather that tips the weight of the scale, my fury comes rushing out of me. I snap my eyes open and stand, pain gone, feeling myself in It's grasp, not even fighting anymore. I rake my eyes around the room, my vision hazy, as It searches for something to hurt. Something to break. Something to kill. Nothing in the room perks It's interest until It lands It's eyes on a mirror.

Or rather, my own reflection.

Whether either of us, It or I, think this through is unclear. All I know is that suddenly, my head is in very close contact with my mirror. The glass cracks in a beautifully nauseating pattern, and my own reflection gleams back at me brokenly. I can see my own crimson eyes glaring at myself, wild and raged, unseeing and completely succumbed to It.

I slam my head into the mirror again.

When the mirror is broken I turn to the dresser, then the desk, then the wall. It keeps it up, never resting, never feeling. Even after everything is broken and covered in blood, my head is still slamming into the wall. With each collision a new set of black spots dance into my vision until I'm almost completely blinded by darkness. Suddenly, I have the strength to cry out.

"Stop!"

Abruptly my body is my own again. I can feel each trickle of blood, each swollen and tender patch of skin. My vision is still blurry, still slowly blotching away. It slips away, nearly as fast as it came about. Out of my system, out of me. It settles back down, satisfied, calmed for now.

Then, just as my body sags against the wall and I slide to the floor and shut my eyes, I hear one last breath, this time completely in my own voice.

**/Out…/**

++Chapter 0.06 : End++

R&R.

-blueXXphoenix-


	7. Chapter007 : Ambiguous

**Title: **Dancing on a Fine Line

**Chapter Title: **Ambiguous

**Summary: **When the darkness spills into the light, when It fades away completely, there's always blood. This time will be no exception.

**Disclaimer: **I own naught; simply the plot.

**Warnings: **Some cursing. Poorly written in my opinion, but I was stumped as to how to make it better. My sincerest apologies.

Honestly, I can't say I expect many reviews; I know I've kept the readers of this story waiting far too long. Nonetheless, enjoy.

++Chapter0.07 : Ambiguous++

Have you ever had your head slammed into a wall, repeatedly? I'm expecting you to say no, so I'll say good. It hurts like hell. If you're ever in the situation where it happens to you, I feel for you. But if you can, avoid it at all costs.

After I blacked out, I woke up in a white bed with soft, silken sheets; sign number one that something was bad. Only the infirmary has silk sheets. Sign number two was the thick gauze bandages wrapped around various limbs and areas of my body, including my left eye. When I fingered one lightly, a numb pain spread throughout my arm.

"Don't touch your wounds, or I'll have to bandage you all over again," a voice says suddenly from the cattycorner across from me. I glance up, turning slightly so my right side is forward, and my eye locks with Ms. Leah's own, both of us wary but neither willing to step down. We hold each other's gaze until, surprising even myself, I look away.

"Kai…" She breathes out my name, barely audible, but her pity screams louder than anything else. I clench my one good hand into a fist around the blankets, keeping my eyes on the sheets. Again with the pity. Damn it! I'm so sick of everyone thinking that I can't handle myself. The dull throb in my hand, though, and the stitching over my knuckles, makes me think different. Maybe I _can_'_t _take care of myself anymore. I mean, what if that happens again?

"Kai… Sweetie… what on earth happened? We called for you, and then I went upstairs to find you and the door was locked so we forced it open and…" Ms. Leah lets the sentence trail off, letting her hands fly up only to fall dejectedly back to her sides. She doesn't know where to continue, and frankly, neither do I.

"Kai, m'boy!" Mr. Dickenson breaks in suddenly as he hobbles into the room. I don't bother to look up until he's crossed the room to my right side. His whole body is sagging heavily on his cane, and he looks years older than when I saw him last. "How are you feeling? You hurt anywhere?"

For the first time, I try to speak. But the words get halfway up my throat before getting cut off with a nasty cough. My hand, the one I can feel with, flies to my chest as something wet tries to come out of my throat. Dickenson and Ms. Leah rush forward, but they're completely useless. I hadn't realized how dry my throat is; it feels like I haven't drunk water in _days_. Wait…

Just how long _have _I been out?

"How…" a parade of coughs take over before I can finish. "…long?" I try and keep my questions as short as possible, but even with the two short words, my throat burns with the effort.

"Nearly seven hours," Ms. Leah replies, and I sigh quietly; not nearly as long as I thought. "Although, you do have a slight concussion. Your wrist is worse, and you got pretty cut up with all that glass." Gingerly, I bring my hand to the bandage over my eye. "You cut open your head, probably on the mirror, and the blood wouldn't stop," Ms. Leah supplies quietly. "But your eye is fine."

I look up at her questioningly, moving my head a bit too fast and my vision spins. Ms. Leah reaches out affectionately, and Dickenson answers my question.

"The mirror, M'boy. It's completely shattered." I think back, and I can vaguely picture myself pressed against the mirror in my bedroom. My eyes, wide and raged. Then I think about all the other blunt objects I propelled my head into. No, not me. It.

This time the flood of memories overtakes me like dead weight. It talked. It _talked_! I can't believe it! And It hurt me! I completely lost control for the first time in… well, forever; I've never lost it like that! And It has never taken over me so completely. I've never even stayed awake for an entire fit before, but I remember everything!

Then, a shattering thought overtakes me: what if this happens again? What if, like with Michael, I _can_'_t stop next time_? This had never happened until right after I left the Tate's house. The one house I actually started to get attached to. Is… is It angry that I left? But no, It mentioned 'fear'. Was It angry that I was afraid? Maybe. Then again, all of this is questionable; I'm so freaking confused right now, I could mistake Ms. Leah for a dormouse.

"Kai? Are you feeling okay?" Speaking of which, Ms. Leah's leaning in closer to me than I realized, and far too close for comfort. My face must have been lined with confusion. I jerk back suddenly, falling painfully into my pillow, but I don't show any sign of pain.

"Easy, Kai. You've got to be gentle. You'll aggravate the wounds." Ms. Leah softly eases out my arm until it's lying straight out, non-flexed. I must admit; the lack of pressure feels pleasant. But I can't get all comfy now; I've got a point to make. Something to say.

After swallowing multiple mouthfuls of spit, I open my mouth and force my voice to work, though it comes out scratchy and hoarse. "Can I…" Coughing. "Talk to the two of you… alone?"

"Kai, you're sure you want to do this?" Ms. Leah's voice is covered in concern, but I can hear the poorly-hidden excitement in her voice. Dickenson is watching me, his expression a mixture of apprehension and approval.

It took them half an hour to get me down to Dickenson's office, where we could talk alone. Along the way, I finally caught a glimpse of myself in a full mirror, and I must say I look like shit. I've got one of those funny looking, thick white gauze strips wrapped around my head, firmly holding the thick bandage to the left side of my head that extends all the way to my eye. My face is covered in small, square band aids, my right eyebrow is stitched up. My knuckles are wrapped, but I can already see blood seeping through them. I've got multiple bandages wrapped around my forearms and biceps, and my right wrist is securely held in a bandage sling. My legs, surprisingly, remain completely unaffected by my fit.

Now, I sit comfortably in a plush red chair across from Dickenson's desk, a large glass of water in front of me, half full. Ms. Leah is sitting beside me, my manila folder fastened to a clipboard and held securely in her lap. Dickenson is nervously playing with his hands as he reads over a piece of paper before him for the umpteenth time.

"Yea, I'm sure," I reply confidently. "I've already thought it through. Just sign the slip." Despite how nice they're being, I can't help my cold tone and harsh words. What the hey; I'm used to being an arrogant little brat.

"Well Kai, I have to make sure you fully understand what you're doing. I mean, there's a number of things that need to be explained, and that could take days—"

"I'm already ready to go. There's nothing for me to pack up. Just let me be on my way, Old Man. Besides, isn't this what you two have always wanted? Well, here you are. I'm delivering it to you on a silver platter, and you're going to question me about it? Way to show your support," I reply nonchalantly, folding my good arm across my chest. I learned when I was young that the guilt card works on these two better than anyone else I know. I shoot Dickenson my most unaffected glare, before tilting my head to look towards Ms. Leah.

"Kai, Mr. Dickenson is just concerned for you. You've never acted this way before. Your fit," as she continues, she places a warm hand on my knee and smiles. She says it vaguely because they have yet to pry exactly what happened out of me. "it's a bit much. We both just want you to be safe and happy." Her voice sounds like she's talking to a kindergartener. "We're just trying to do what's right."

I suddenly decide this is taking too long and I let my tone slip to a demanding one. "If you want me to be happy, then just sign the damn slip," I growl out, shifting my leg out of her reach; I don't miss her hurt expression but it's easy to ignore. I fix Dickenson with a full on glare. "I want to be back at the Tate's by tomorrow."

* * *

Ambiguous : having more than one meaning: having more than one possible meaning or interpretation

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++Chapter0.07 : End++

Kind of short, I'm aware, but I wanted this chapter to end where it did.

R&R.

-blueXXphoenix-


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